School Daze
by jibber59
Summary: Four Corners gets a new teacher, and the town gets an education. (old west tale) CAUTION: References to punishment of minors (nothing graphic), plus some additional whumpage of grown-up.
1. Chapter 1

The clanging of the bell with the two-minute warning served its purpose as play was abandoned and the scurry to the schoolhouse that sat at the far end of town began. It had taken far less time than he'd expected for the fervour of the children to fade away. There had been a few who never had it, and that was to be expected. Sitting in a classroom, even for just half a day, rarely would be the preferred choice when a day of fishing, exploring or just general mischief were amoung the options. There were far better uses for a morning. But many had looked forward to the novelty of learning and eagerly showed up early for the first few days. Now, only just over a week since classes had begun, the smiles were few and far between.

The late start and early end to classes had been the compromise reached with parents who had been reluctant to lose the services of the children on the farms or businesses. Getting up with the sun to do chores and knowing more were waiting at the end of the day undoubtedly contributed to the lack of enthusiasm. But it wasn't enough, yet, to keep the children home. Ezra pulled out his pocket watch, noticing the few stragglers running to get to the school for the 9:30 start. He could only assume tardiness was not acceptable to the new school master.

Mr. Stymiest stood in the doorway of the simple school house. It had been hastily built when the committee to hire a teacher got word he was available and could start as soon as the stagecoach could get him there. No one had really expected the affirmative response, and the task of raising an appropriate building, quickly became a town event much like a barn raising and the speed of the task had puzzled JD.

 _"_ _How come we could build a school house in two days, while Josiah has spent months on his church and it still ain't finished?"_

 _"_ _Isn't finished, Mr. Dunne. And his edifice would be complete if he allowed others to assist and ceased his constant alteration of plans."_

 _"_ _My church, my labours. It's part of the arrangement I have with The Boss."_

Ezra sat back in his seat on the verandah of the saloon, observing the interaction of the children with their teacher. They all carefully skirted around him as they darted into the room, none looking up to meet his stare. There was no sign of warmth from any of them. Stymiest suddenly snapped his watch closed, and Ezra glanced down at his own. 9:30, as he expected. Looking back up he saw two children, Billy Travis and Andrew Bailey, slow as they approached the school, heads low. Even from this distance, he could see look on the teacher's face was unsettling and sent an unexpected chill through him. It went beyond stern, beyond any indication that the children had merely broken a rule. There was a malevolence on his face that Ezra could read from where he sat. He could only imagine what it was like up close. Well, more than imagine. He could remember. It had been some time now, but he had definitely seen that look in the past, and the consequences had been unpleasant.

"What're you staring at Ezra?" Vin's voice broke his concentration and he struggled for a moment to paste a neutral look on his face before smiling up at his friend.

"Simply lost in the recollection of time spent in my much younger days." He nodded his head toward the school, watching the door close trying to shake of the ominous impression that innocent action stirred.

"Can't say that the feeling is familiar to me." A childhood spent as his was had left Vin no opportunity to set foot inside a classroom, the consequences of which he was still dealing with. Ezra felt a pang of guilt for raising the subject, which was immediately recognized. "Don't think that way Ezra. Wasn't your fault, and you've been real good about helping me with all of that."

"It is the least I could do, considering."

"Don't know why we had to go outside to find a teacher. You'd have been a good one for the job."

As much as he might have enjoyed the time with the children, and the opportunity to more formally share his knowledge, the reality was laughable. Ignoring the fact there would have been a significant objection from the good folks of Four Corners at the mere suggestion a man of his character be responsible for educating the children, there was also the matter of a total lack of qualification. It remained one of his best kept secrets that he'd had only slightly more experience in a classroom than Vin did, and most of that had been in the cause of one of a myriad of scams that were being perpetrated by his mother. She had made sure he could read, as the skill was invaluable in their line of work, and his gift for numbers came from learning to calculate odds and keeping track of the money on the card table. Hours spent alone were passed reading whatever he could find in the assorted homes and hotels he grew up in, resulting in a diverse pool of knowledge. Time spent with the servants in those establishments gave him a grounding in several languages, which he worked at expanding whenever he could. The result was that he was a highly knowledgeable individual with no certification to give him any credibility.

"I believe I have sufficient activities to occupy my time at this point. Adding any further would seriously intrude upon my leisure time and extra earning hours."

"In other words, no time for poker."

"Precisely."

The sight of Chris walking toward them brought both men to their feet. "Yes Mr. Larabee, we are aware of our patrol responsibilities. We were just discussing the advantages of education."

"Well, that's a new excuse." Chris offered them a rare smile. "Billy certainly seems to be taking to his studies. Didn't even want to go fishing 'til he got all his practice work done."

Vin paused as he walked down the stairs. "That ain't natural."

"Isn't." Ezra corrected automatically. "And no, it isn't."

Chris shrugged. "I imagine it will pass after a time. People tend to be less eager once they get used to something. Like, I remember when folks went out to do their patrols on time."

"Yes sir cowboy – on my way." Vin gave a playful salute as he walked away. Chris looked up at Ezra, who wasn't moving, staring once again at the school.

"Anything holding you back Standish?"

Bringing his attention back, Ezra grinned. "A good many things Mr. Larabee, but I shall persevere." He matched Vin's salute as he headed to the stables to prepare Chaucer for their rounds.

7-7-7-7-7-7-7

Billy left the school quickly and quietly, not looking back as he heard the door close behind him. He turned toward the back alleys quickly, not wanting to take the main road home. Running was difficult, but he fought through the discomfort as he made his way to the creek that ran behind the town. Carefully setting his school sack far away from the water, he squatted next to it, using the cool fresh water to wash his face of the tear stains and calm the accompanying redness. It took him several minutes to settle down to the point he was ready to go home, hoping all the while that his mother would be too busy with this week's paper to notice the state he was in.

She barely looked up from the printing press when he came in. "How was your morning?"

"It was good. I have work to do." He hurried past her to his bed where he dropped the bag and began trying to look busy.

"Is everything all right Billy?" Mary had hoped that going to school would help the lad overcome his shy, quiet ways, but it seemed to be having the opposite effect.

"Yes ma. Just want to do this while I can remember what Mr. Stymiest told us."

She looked at the amount of type still to set and sighed to herself. She'd have a chat with him tonight and make sure there was nothing going on.

7-7-7-7-7-7-7

Ezra rode past the Bailey property on his way back into town late in the afternoon. It had been a quiet day, and while he knew that was a good thing, it did make for a rather boring tour. He'd stopped for brief visits with some of the settlers. The community was growing, and it was important to make sure everyone in the area felt they were a part of Four Corners, or so Chris kept telling them. He was unsure when his job became as much public relations as it was peace keeper. But, as glad-handing was second nature to the (mostly) reformed con-man, the social aspect of his day was not a challenge. Finding something of interest to discuss with people who cared only about crops and weather was another issue, but one he was learning to deal with.

As he got closer to the Bailey house it occurred to him this would be an ideal opportunity to discover how their youngster was enjoying attending school. This was one of the few homes he'd passed today that was close enough for school to be an option. Thinking of the children left out, he resolved to find a way to deal with the distance issues before too much more time had passed. If, as Chris wanted, the region was to become a town, these were the types of concerns that would have to be addressed.

Spotting Mrs. Bailey hanging laundry, he called out to warn her of his arrival. She turned when she saw him and quickly ran into the house. A moment later Mr. Bailey was on the porch, shotgun in hand.

"Get of my property Standish. You ain't welcome here."

Ezra pulled back on the reins, stopping Chaucer in mid stride. "I assure you sir, I mean no harm."

"You may not mean it, but you done plenty. Just turn around and git."

Despite a quick review of recent encounters, Ezra could find no actions that would have inspired this reaction from the normally reserved man. "If I have offended you in some way, I do offer a sincere apology."

"Can't apologize for what you did to my boy. Giving you one last warning."

Ezra signaled Chaucer to back up, not turning away from his accuser. "I am at a loss sir. I assure you, I have done nothing to young Andrew."

"You made him go to that school, and they made him feel like dirt. Nobody treats my kin that way."

Confusion made Ezra forget the imminent threat and he stopped the retreat. "I repeat Mr. Bailey, I do not understand your accusation. I would never do any such thing to Andrew, nor condone it's occurrence."

Bailey lowered the gun slightly. Even though he didn't completely understand what was being said, he was getting the idea the Ezra didn't know what was going on. He liked Standish, as much as he liked any of the townsfolk. And he'd believed the man had been sincere about helping Andrew with this learning business. But what had happened at school today was not part of the deal, and he was having no part of any more of this.

"Go on. Get away from here. You go ask that teacher of yours what's going on."

Knowing he was not going to get any more information from the agitated man, Ezra turned Chaucer and headed off the property. He could see Mrs. Bailey at the back of the house, arm wrapped tightly around Andrew as if trying to protect him from the hounds of hell. If it was the last thing he did, Ezra was going to find out why.

M7-M7-M7-M7-M7-M7-M7

tbc


	2. Chapter 2

Ezra bypassed his usual stop on arriving in town, heading straight to Mary's office. The light glowing through the window told him she was, as usual, still working. He flipped Chaucer's reins over the porch rail and rapped gently on the door. When there was no response, he tapped again, this time hearing a frustrated 'come in' response. The cause for the tone was obvious the moment he opened the door, to be greeted by the sight of Mary on her knees trying to gather the type face pieces scattered across the floor. He bit back a smart remark when he saw the look on her face.

"Watch where you step. I can't have any more of these getting broken."

"Dare I ask what brought about the catastrophe?" He squatted down in the door way, picking up the pieces closest to him.

She huffed angrily. "Leg broke on the cabinet. I knew it needed to be fixed, but there were just so many things to do, and I kept forgetting about it and just propping it up. Bumped into it this afternoon and it just went. Type was flying everywhere."

"I trust you were uninjured?" When she glanced quickly at her arm Ezra stopped what he was doing and took a couple cautious steps toward her. He could see the bruising on her wrist. "You should have Mr. Jackson look at that. It may be nothing of consequence, but that is a chance you shouldn't take."

"I don't have the time. I'm not finished with setting the paper, and this is going to delay everything."

"How much more difficult will it be if you have to proceed with an injury that is not tended? You go over to see Mr. Jackson, and I will continue with this task."

She smiled warmly at him. "Isn't this outside of your usual range of duties? Menial labour after all."

He returned the grin. "On the contrary. I have always described myself as a man of letters. I will admit I never expected the term to be quite this literal."

"I'll be back as quickly as I can." She brushed her hair back and headed to the door before turning suddenly. "Mr. Standish, what was it you came to see me about?"

"Oh, it is nothing that won't keep." When she refused to move, he conceded. "I was wondering if young Mr. Travis has said anything to you about his teacher. Voiced any concerns."

Mary shook her head firmly. "He has said very little about him since the first day. I know you don't like the man, but Billy certainly doesn't seem to have any issues."

"It isn't a matter of whether or not I like the man Mrs. Travis. I simply have a few concerns about our lack of detailed information on him."

"The committee, and the judge, reviewed his background and there were no issues."

"And you did not find it strange that a man of his skills and training would be so ready and willing to relocate to our small hamlet?"

"Not everyone chooses the lucrative or easy path Mr. Standish. Some men take on a task because they believe in the honourable aspect of their calling."

"Touché madam."

She hadn't seen the flash of hurt on his face but heard it in his voice. "I'm sorry, that didn't come out as intended."

"No harm. Please, make your way to Mr. Jackson's, and we can discuss my matter when you return."

Ezra watched her leave and kept an eye on her until he was certain she was doing as promised. Not that he doubted her word, but the woman could be easily distracted if something of note caught her reporter's eye. He set about his task of gathering the debris on the floor, casting his eye about for stray pieces. It appeared Mary had found most to them, but he was certain a few had vanished into crevices, possibly never to be seen again. He took his small collection to the table and perched on the stool, starting the tedious task of returning letters to their correct slots in the drawers. Differentiating the 'u' from the 'n' was only the first of what he expected would be many challenges.

"Where is my mother?"

He jumped slightly at the unexpected voice. "Good evening Master Travis. Your mother had a brief errand to run but shall return shortly. Is there a matter I could assist you with?" Shaking his head shyly, Billy turned to leave.

"Perhaps I could impose on you to assist me with this project. As you can see, these need to be sorted, and your young eyes would likely be more suited to the task than mine are. Come sit with me and lend your skills."

Billy looked frightened by the prospect, and Ezra feared he had put too much on the youngster. "Of course, it is possible it is a bit early in your education for you to recognize all of the letters. Perhaps if you just sit down and keep me company?"

Ezra was surprised to see the look of terror remain, and even more shocked when the youngster moved his hands to cover his behind. "No, I can't." He turned to run from the room, but Ezra quickly moved to stop him.

When he laid a hand on his shoulder, the child flinched and pulled back with a soft whimper. Ezra didn't want to hear the answer to the question he needed to ask.

"Have you been injured Billy?"

The soft 'no sir' was almost too quiet to be heard. Ezra had to fight the desire to push the issue, knowing all too well it would only further frighten the child. He tried approaching it from another angle.

"Your mother has gone to see Mr. Jackson – just a minor injury to her arm. Perhaps you should join her there?"

"No. I'm fine." He turned, never lifting his head or raising his voice above a whisper.

"Very well. But given how uncomfortable you look, I shall talk to Mr. Stymiest and inform him you will not be in class tomorrow."

Billy spun back around, eyes wide with fear and looked up for the first time. "No! Don't do that. Don't talk to him. Please." Tears began to fall as he turned again to run.

"Did he hurt Andrew Bailey as well? Please, Billy. You must tell me what happened."

"Nothing." He stopped but didn't turn. "Nothing at all." Without another word, he ran from the room.

Ezra struggled to rein in his temper. He knew what had happened. He had a sick realization that he had known all along something wasn't quite right but had discounted it as being nothing more than his usual cynical view of people.

Stymiest had been told when he arrived that discipline was a task left to parents, and any issues should be dealt with accordingly. He had assured the committee he had no problem with that, and that he had learned a strict voice and firm demeanor was generally sufficient to keep youngsters in line. Ezra watched him make the claim and swallowed his instinctive suspicion. The tone, the body posture - the statement didn't ring true. It didn't take any special skills at reading people for him to see the rest of the committee was completely enamoured of the new arrival, so he kept his opinions to himself. Now, he was beating himself up over that decision, with the intention to be beating someone else up if he was correct.

7-7-7-7-7-7-7

Billy watched through the window as Ezra left, almost crying with relief to see him walking toward the restaurant, and not the school. Maybe he wouldn't talk to Mr. Stymiest after all. Maybe he had fooled him into believing nothing was wrong. He looked back at his bed, wondering if he would be able to sit on it if he used the pillow. Even if that worked, he couldn't take it out when he had to sit down for dinner.

He looked around, getting more desperate by the minute. Maybe Mr. Standish was right, he thought. If I'm sick, I don't have to eat, or go to school, or anything. The problem with that plan is that it was only a one-day solution. He needed more than that. He couldn't run away. He promised he would never scare his mother that way again. Out of ideas, he lay face down on the bed and sobbed quietly into his pillow.

7-7-7-7-7-7-7

Ezra neared the restaurant, trying to get himself under control enough to speak to the others calmly. They were unlikely to believe him. Why would they? His word was seldom good enough. Without some evidence they were sure to ascribe some ulterior motivation to his deductions. He needed to present a convincing case, and ranting would not accomplish that goal. He needed some kind of proof.

The town was quiet, as most people appeared to be home, or on their way there. Only a few people were on the streets, and they were going about their own business, paying him no attention. Not an uncommon situation. He focused his attention on the school house. Tucked back from the main part of town, in the hope that the location would mean fewer distractions for the children. It also created a degree of isolation that until this moment had not seemed like a detriment. There was no light in the classroom, but given the hour, that was expected. Stymiest was possibly in the back room, but more likely settled into his boarding house accommodation. The original plan had been to make the back room of the school house into his residence, but he balked at the idea, saying it was not appropriate. For the moment, the committee was indulging him, which suddenly Ezra was grateful for.

He circled behind the restaurant and quickly but quietly made his way to the school. In the haste to get the building completed, a few luxuries had been neglected, meaning for this excursion there was no need to pick a lock. A shame actually, as he thought he could probably use the practice. The door opened silently, and he furtively hastened inside. The dusk offered just enough light for him to make his search, not entirely certain what he hoped to find. The chalkboard had notes for tomorrow's class. Ezra scanned it and reluctantly admitted the man seemed to know what he was doing. Not that it mattered, since it wasn't his technique that was in question right now.

The bookcase in the corner held some readers which spanned several skill levels. It occurred to Ezra he should consider donating a few of his own classics for the older children to enjoy, although they would undoubtedly prefer JD's penny novels. He shuddered at the thought.

The desk was almost barren, holding only a grading book, ink bottle and a single pen. The top drawer held no surprises, with a few more pens and a notebook. He sat at the desk, looking out over the room as he pulled at the side drawer. Locked? Why, when everything else was so exposed would the one drawer be locked. He looked at the mechanism and smiled. Child's play. Obviously Stymiest and installed the external clasp himself and getting past it was something Ezra could do in his sleep. Less than 10 seconds later he was starring in disbelief at the contents, grateful he hadn't stopped for supper before coming here.

Three hard leather straps of different sizes rested on top of a riding crop and small horsewhip. A wooden paddle was propped on the side. All showed signs of being well used in the past, cracked and discoloured with the patina of age. He looked again and cursed under breath. Not all of the discolouration came from age. Some came from blood.

"Do you make it a habit of breaking into other people's property Mr. Standish?" Ezra had been too focused on his find to hear the door of the back room slip open. He turned, making a move to release his derringer when a heavy cane smashed down on his arm. Grabbing for whatever weapon he could find, his fingers landed on one of the straps and he lashed out with it. He was too far away to make contact, but Stymiest clearly wasn't as the cane landed again, this time against the side of his head. He stumbled back, dazed, trying to retrieve the strap as it fell from his grasp.

"Oh, fond of the strap, are you? I too find it a most satisfactory method of discouraging those who fail to follow the rules. For example, those who break into my desk." He retrieved a large strap from the drawer. Ezra dodged to avoid the blow but was too disoriented from the first hits to move quickly enough. He was dropped to his knees by the impact for the leather hitting his face. He looked up, only to be struck again, then again. He fell forward, unable to ward off any blows as he slipped into darkness.

M7-M7-M7-M7-M7-M7-M7

tbc


	3. Chapter 3

Mary opened the office door, looking down to be able to watch where she stepped. She could see nothing left on the floor and sighed gratefully. Her arm, while not badly hurt, was sore enough she didn't relish the thought of getting back down to finish that task. The type pieces were all piled on the desk. It looked as if sorting had started but hadn't progressed very far. Obviously something more urgent had needed the gambler's attention. "Well, the paper will be late this week." She didn't feel the least bit foolish talking to herself – she did it every time she lay type to keep herself focused.

"Billy." She called, expecting him to show himself quickly, undoubtedly hungry by this time. It was late, and supper tonight would be a treat at the restaurant as she had neither the time nor energy to prepare anything. When there was no sound of movement she made her way to the door to the home and opened it. "Billy, it's time for supper."

"I don't feel like eating." She followed the soft voice over to his bed.

She reached to feel for a fever and was surprised when he pulled back. "What's wrong honey?"

"I'm tired. Don't want to eat."

"Don't be silly. You have to have some supper."

He shook his head, barely visible with the covers pulled high.

"I'm going to go get some soup for you. You have to eat something. You stay in bed until I get back."

She hurried across the street, pondering the actions of her son. This wasn't how he acted when he was sick, usually denying everything and trying to be tough. A consequence, she expected, of hero worship.

And there were six of the men responsible, she thought as she walked into the restaurant. After asking Molly to fix two bowls of soup she could take home, she made her way to their table. Nathan looked up at her.

"Well, at least you are sticking to your promise to take it easy on the arm by not making supper tonight. These guys could learn a lesson from you."

"When you are finished Mr. Jackson, and there is no rush, could you come by and check on Billy? He says he's feeling poorly, but something isn't right about that."

"Think he's hurting?" Chris's concern was immediate. Billy had firmly taken up residence in his world, and the notion that something was wrong didn't sit well with him.

Mary shook her head slightly, uncertainty evident. "I don't know. He seemed fine earlier when he came home from school and was alright when I checked on him just before this silly accident. Mr. Standish was with him for some time after that. I can't imagine what might have happened."

Josiah didn't like the implication in the comment. "You can't be thinking Ezra would have done anything to hurt the boy. The way he watches after the children of this town?"

"No." Mary stretched out the word and her brief hesitation spoke volumes, which were heard at a neighbouring table.

"Trusting that swindler with your child was your first mistake." The owner of one of the town's boarding houses spoke loudly.

"Trusting him with anything was the first mistake." His wife agreed.

"Mr. and Mrs. Coleman. How nice to see you in here. Obviously looking to have a decent meal for a change." Josiah voice boomed throughout the restaurant, bringing chuckles and knowing nods from anyone who had been subjected to Mrs. Coleman's culinary efforts.

Realising how her comments had been misconstrued, Mary tried to remedy the situation. "Of course I don't think Mr. Standish would have intentionally done anything to harm Billy, in any way. He simply couldn't. But you do know how he gets, and his rather dry humour might have been misunderstood."

Vin, like Josiah, didn't care for the discussion. "He's not like that with the kids, and you know it. If something has Billy out of sorts you can be sure it wasn't his fault."

"Easy enough way to sort this out. Where is Ezra?" Chris waited a moment, but no one answered him. "OK, if Billy was the last to see him, we'll ask him."

"No, you won't Chris. I'll speak to my son. I am not about to have you intimidating him when he isn't at his best."

Stymiest stood in the door, watching the discussion, keeping his smile to himself when aspersions were cast in Standish's direction. It would only help with his plan.

"If it is Mr. Standish you are looking for, I believe I saw him heading east out of town, about an hour ago." They all turned to face the teacher. "He was walking quite quickly and looked as if he had something on his mind."

"And you noticed this because…" Chris was naturally suspicious of anyone who volunteered information.

"Well, to be truthful, because we had words prior to his departure."

That brought everyone's attention to him, and he felt a flush come to his face. Scrutiny by these men would intimidate the most honest of individuals, let alone one with as much to hide as he had.

"What kind of words?"

"Are you certain you wish to discuss this in public Mr. Larabee?"

The question gave him a moment of concern, but Chris knew when it came to the children, Ezra was definitely not the man in the wrong. "Good a place and time as any."

"I was concerned over the influence he has on the children and let him know that. His ways, his type, can be a very negative influence on such young minds."

"Don't think you've been here long enough to know his type." Josiah's voice held more than a hint of menace.

"Perhaps not here, but I have been in the teaching profession for several years and know what to be on the lookout for. He is a man of questionable and untold background. What is known of him is, to say the least, disreputable."

"Listening to idle gossip is not the best source of information. Would have expected a teacher to know better." Nathan had had his own doubts about Ezra from time to time but hearing him attacked by an outsider brought forth an unexpected protective streak.

The discussion was not exactly going to plan, and Stymiest debated about how much further he should venture into the ploy. It took him only a few seconds to recognize he really had no options but to see this through, and hope that he had read the town correctly. Standish might have the backing of the lawmen, and least conditionally, but he had learned it took very little to make parents into protective mother bears, and he was sure he could make the gambler the target of their wrath.

"I did not want to raise the point, but you have left me no choice. Mr. Standish is a single man, well past the age most men have taken a wife. He appears to have very little if any interest in the women of this town yet spends an inordinate amount of time watching and being with the children. You said it yourself Mrs. Travis. Billy became ill, withdrawn, after spending time alone with Mr. Standish today."

The room was silent in shock at the inference being made. Several of the guests cast nervous glances at each other, thinking of the times they had seen Ezra with children nearby.

"He often sits with Joey on his lap." Mrs. Collins blanched at the thought.

"He's reading stories to him." JD defended automatically.

"He does pick up the children quite a lot. Roughhouses with them even." Mr. Hollister's observation made several of the fathers in the room start to appear restless.

Stymiest moved in for the kill. "He denied nothing when I confronted him. That was when I saw him walk away."

Chris stood abruptly, his chair falling to the ground, and stared at Mary. "You believe this? You can look me in the eye and tell me you believe Ezra would hurt Billy that way? Would hurt any child in that way? In any way?"

She stood silently, not meeting his glare. Chris's eyes narrowed as he looked around the room. "You're all taking the word of a man you've known for a week over the reputation of someone who has put his life on the line for you – and your kids – a dozen times?"

Coleman stood. "Standish is a gambler and a cheater. This man is a teacher. Who do you think we should trust?"

"Mr. Standish." In the silence that had followed the question, Billy's soft voice carried through the room.

"Billy, what are you doing here?" Mary rushed to his side, her hand automatically reaching to check his forehead. "I told you to stay in bed."

"They should trust Mr. Standish ma. He would never hurt me. You know that."

Stymiest slowly worked his way toward the door, counting on the fact all eyes were on the boy. He backed out as unobtrusively as possible, stopping only when he backed into Buck, who had moved with alarming speed to block the retreat. "You can't leave now friend. Things are just starting to get interesting."

Chris walked over to Billy, trying to hide his anger behind what he hoped was a reassuring smile. He gently lifted the boy and carried him to a vacant table, lowering him to sit on it. Billy tried to hide the pain from making contact with the hard surface, but he had no skill at subterfuge. It took Chris only seconds to figure it out, and he lifted Billy down and let him stand.

"You've got yourself a sore behind, don't you Billy?"

The boy gave the barest hint of a nod. "Can you tell me how that happened?" Billy didn't move. "Did you fall down?" There was a tiny quick headshake. "Did you get into a fight with one of the other kids? No. Billy. Did somebody spank you?" Billy eyes darted to where Stymiest stood, then back to Chris. He started to shake his head, frantic to deny it, but knew he couldn't lie to his hero. There was a small nod and a tear slid down his cheek. Chris pulled him into a hug.

"You're a brave little man Billy." He stood, letting Mary swoop in to comfort her son.

"Clearly the boy is confused. Standish probably threatened him if he told anyone what he'd done."

Buck tightened his grip. "You really want to keep riding that horse? Knowing how far it's gonna throw you?"

Moving faster than the others JD got up into the teacher's face. "You said you talked to him. He didn't run out, so why don't you tell us where he went?"

Stymiest seemed stunned by the hostility in the young man's voice, causing Josiah to chuckle with a touch of evil glee. "You gotta watch out for the little fellas. They're feisty."

"Forget the little fellas. It's the mothers you need to be afraid of." Chris tugged JD away from the man and the spot was immediately taken by Mary.

"What did you do to my boy?"

Knowing the pretense was over, Stymiest foolishly chose to get defensive. "Nothing more than the boy had coming. He needs to learn discipline, and not to fashion himself after these ruffians." The sentence was barely finished before the slap was heard throughout the restaurant. Mary's palm stung from the action, and it felt incredibly satisfying.

"Discipling a child is one thing. No child deserves to be left in a state he can't sit down. Where he is terrified of going back to school. My God, what did he do that you could imagine that was appropriate?" Stymiest didn't answer, but Billy did.

"I was late for school this morning. Me and Andrew were. He paddled us both."

Buck pulled the arrogant bastard away from Mary's reach, slamming him into the nearest wall.

"Asking you just one more time. Where is Ezra?" When there was no response, Buck pulled back his arm and threw his punch. Josiah's hand reached out to block it.

"Knocking him senseless won't help."

"Won't hurt." Buck snarled back. Chris grabbed the man by the scruff and tossed him to Josiah. "Take him over and lock him up."

"How dare you. On what charge?"

"Well, we're gonna start with beating on a little boy, and I'm sure we can add more. JD, go check Ezra's room, in case he's been in there sleeping this whole time. Look in the saloon as well." He didn't believe that for a minute but wasn't about to completely discount the possibility.

"Vin, you and me will head over to the school and look around. When you're done Josiah, help Buck ask around town. Someone might have seen him."

Nathan looked up, waiting for his orders. Chris stopped short of speaking, turning to Mary first. "You be OK with having Nathan check Billy over? He may need to testify as a medical expert on how bad he was hurt." Billy clung to his mother, terrified at the thought.

"I'll stay with you honey. You know Nathan isn't going to hurt you."

Billy wiped away another tear as he looked over a Chris before answering. "I'm a brave little man."

M7-M7-M7-M7-M7-M7-M7

tbc

 _Notes: Yes, it was common for teachers to punish students in this era. It was also common for towns to put restrictions on what kind of punishment should be allowed, and how severe. I, too, have ancestors who were in a classroom, and from the family stories, at least one was warned she would be driven out of town if she raised a hand to a child without discussing it with the parent first._


	4. Chapter 4

He moaned softly, aching everywhere. Even opening his eyes felt like more than he was capable of handling, but he knew he had to make the effort. Only one co-operated. The room was dark, with only a sliver of pale light coming under the door that looked to be miles away from where he lay on the rough floor.

Ezra shifted to get a better view of his surroundings and regretted it immediately. Pain stabbed through every fibre of him. He had no idea it was possible to hurt in so many places at once, and still be conscious. Still be alive. He lay still for several minutes, hoping the agony would ease to a bearable level, but it was showing no inclination to do so.

The odds were that sitting up was not going to help, but his foggy mind was trying to convince him it was a necessary step to getting himself out of whatever nightmare he had landed in. It was only when he made the effort to push himself up that he registered the fact his hands were tied. As were his feet. With growing chagrin he figured out that he was hogtied, hands and feet bound together, contributing massively to the throbbing that vibrated through him.

The anxiety only added to the trouble he was having breathing. His chest ached with each shallow intake of air he could manage. The gag stuffed in his mouth forced him to breathe through his nose, which he was increasing certain was broken.

He cautiously rested his head on the floor, doing his best to move slowly when he had to move at all. Another wave of dizziness could have the unwanted consequence of inducing nausea. Unpleasant under ideal circumstances, but gagged as he was, he had no doubt he would choke, which was the most undignified death he could envision.

Closing his eyes helped, a little, with fighting off the symptoms. It also allowed him to try to focus on what the hell had happened to him this time. The day began to play out in his mind and ended with his conversation with young Master Travis. The school. He had gone to the school and that bastard had bushwhacked him. Ezra hoped he had gotten at least a few hits on the man himself, although that wasn't what his memory was telling him. His body was confirming the few details of beating that he could recall. He knew he'd been hit, repeatedly with at least one of those damned straps. The whistle of a whip echoed in his head as well, and no doubt explained the sticky warm dampness he could feel on arms and legs. He'd had little opportunity to defend himself. He thought he had managed a few kicks, but couldn't imagine he'd inflicted much damage. Pity.

What he could see of his surroundings told him he had probably been dragged into the back room on the off chance someone might come into the classroom. He had no idea how long he'd been here. It was night, but whether that was early evening or midnight was beyond his grasp. He couldn't even be sure if it was the same day. Had he lain here all day with classes going on in the room next to him? The idea that the children were this close to seeing the horror sickened him.

He had to get out of here. He had to find a way to let the others know the truth, if it was the last thing he did. Given his current state, he had little doubt that it would be.

These knots were tied by a school teacher, not a cowboy. How difficult could it be to undo them? If he'd been in half decent shape, escape would have been simple. It was one of the first skills a gambler and conman had to learn if he had any hope of survival. Inch by painful inch he turned his arms and hands as far as the ropes would allow. He could feel them rubbing his wrists raw, but in the scheme of things, the pain was virtually unnoticeable. It felt like an eternity until he could work his fingers into a knot and begin prying at it. The tautness of the rope began to slacken ever so slightly, and he worked faster, ignoring the blood that was starting to coat his hands. Trying to find the bright side, he found himself hoping that would make it easier to slide his hands free.

A few more minutes. That's all he needed when he heard the sounds from outside. With the gag in place, shouting out wasn't an option, and he was still too tightly bound to make noise any other way. Forcing his swollen eyelids open again he searched for any aid. His eyes lit on the table just a few feet away. If he could roll to it, knock it over, it might be enough to encourage someone to check. A long shot, but the only bet he had. Oh God, this was going to hurt.

 _What if it was Stymiest?_ The warning voice screamed in his head _. If he knows you are awake, he won't hesitate to come in an finish you off._ The thought caused Ezra to freeze in place. Was it worth the risk? Maybe he could free himself, escape before the bastard came back. But he was exhausted by the minimal work he had done so far to free himself, and he was nowhere close to being liberated. There was no disputing that Stymiest planned to kill him. He'd have no choice. Obviously, he had to wait for a safe time. If it was night, this would be that time. With the town asleep he could haul Ezra's battered body and dump it for the scavengers to feed on. The thought brought the nausea back, and Ezra struggled again to control the impulse.

Despite what he was certain was his inevitable fate, what ate away at him the most was the knowledge he had failed to stop Stymiest from hurting the children. If only he had been willing to talk to Chris or Vin, or any of the others, none of this would have happened. He could have saved them if he hadn't been so selfish as to wonder what the men would think of him.

"Ezra? You in here?"

He was dreaming. Hallucinating. There was no other explanation.

"Chris, we never put a lock on this backroom door."

The voice was coming from the classroom. It sounded like Vin. How was that possible?

"Ezra, I hope you ain't near the door, 'cause I'm gonna bust it in."

 _Aren't near the door_ , Ezra corrected automatically in his head. _Why can't I break them of that?_

The cracking of wood was followed by a flood of light into the room. Vin held a lantern high casting the glow further.

"Holy mother of God. Chris, get Nathan over here now." Vin dropped to his knees beside Ezra. "Stay still Pard. Don't even think about moving. We got you. Nathan's coming." He reached behind Ezra's head, working frantically to untie the gag. The moment it was free, Ezra began coughing and gasping as pain again radiated through him. Vin tried to hold him steady. "Easy Ezra. Slow breaths. Nice and slow."

Ezra felt a tug at the ropes and suddenly his hands and feet were no longer bound together. The movement of stiff muscle brought on yet another round of agony. He couldn't hold back the nausea this time. Vin held him as still as was possible as Ezra wretched, each action only bringing on more torture. With his last heave, he passed out.

Vin held him as tightly as he dared, hoping some comfort was being given. He didn't let himself think about the man who had done this, knowing Ezra would feel that anger, and in this condition would misinterpret it. He looked up with relief at the sound of Nathan and Buck entering. "Where are you?"

"In the back. Hurry Nathan."

Both men froze at the sight, Buck cursing loudly. Nathan forced himself to ignore the fact this was his friend and focused solely on the injuries that needed to be treated.

"Where's Chris?" Vin looked past the two men, expecting to see the blond man following.

"Was headed to the jail."

"For God's sake Buck, stop him!"

"Why? Stymiest has it coming."

Unable to dispute that fact, Vin had other concerns. "Won't do any of us any good if he gets himself hung for murder, will it?"

"Prisoner was trying to escape."

"Buck!"

After taking a long look at Ezra, Buck finally turned, muttering as he left. "Still don't see the point in stopping him."

"Hold him still Vin."

"Not gonna be a problem Nathan, he's too weak to move."

The loud curse at the door told them Josiah had arrived. He said nothing more, watching intently as Nathan carefully began the examination. Vin saw the signs on the big man's face.

"Don't Josiah. Buck is already trying to keep Chris from doing anything stupid. Doubt he could control both of you."

"Can't see that retribution would be anything stupid."

Nathan tried another approach to calming him. "Remember the good book, brother – turn the other cheek? Justice is mine sayeth the Lord."

"I consider myself to be an instrument of God."

"Please Josiah. Not on my account."

Nathan tried to silence his patient. "Good as it is to hear your voice Ezra, you need to stay still and calm. You got yourself beat up pretty good."

"I assure you, it was not my intention." He coughed weakly, grimacing as the action sent tremors through him. "Water?" His voice was down to a whisper.

Turning quickly to head to the well at the back of the school Josiah spoke. "That I can handle."

"Don't let them…" he coughed again, moaning loudly.

"Ezra, shut up and let Nathan look at you. We'll take care of the others. You just rest."

As he faded off again, they could barely hear the response. "Believe I can do that."

7-7-7-7-7-7-7

"I should have let you hit him when you wanted to." Josiah stood outside the jail cell glaring at the prisoner. Buck had been thinking the same thing.

"You can't keep me locked up in here. I have done nothing wrong."

The two lawmen stared at each other in disbelief. "He really believes that – doesn't he?" Josiah merely nodded. "You do get you're a lot safer in there than you would be out here?"

"I demand to know what I have been arrested for."

Two quick steps brought Josiah to the cell bars, and Stymiest wisely retreated to a far corner of the cell. "Ignoring, just for the moment, what you've done to the children, you are under arrest for the attempted murder of Ezra Standish. And if you believe in prayer, you best start asking that charge doesn't become any more serious."

"That was self defense. Standish broke into the school as was stealing –"

"Didn't break into anything. School is open to the town, and since you don't live in there you can't be claiming it as your property either."

"He broke into the desk."

Josiah shook his head, enjoying watching the prisoner squirm. "Again, town property, and as a lawman here, he had the right to look inside it. Protecting our assets."

Stymiest was growing concerned about his position in all of this. He had never expected anyone to side with Standish, of all people, over him. For them to side with anyone over him. That was one of the reasons for coming to a backwater area like this. The town's gratitude should have given him the leeway he needed to run the school the way it should be. To give him the domain he deserved, with no one looking over his shoulder as they had done in the bigger cities.

"You will all regret these actions when the judge arrives. A man of proper legal standing and learning will certainly straighten this matter out in the appropriate manner."

With a feral smirk, Buck glanced over to Josiah. "Can I be the one to tell him?"

"By all means Brother. I'll just enjoy watching."

"Guess you haven't had the pleasure of meeting the judge that oversees this part of the territory. Good man. But you're right – a proper man. Smart and honest. Name is Oren Travis."

Stymiest paled as he knees buckled under him. "Travis?"

The men grinned broadly. "That would be Billy's grandfather," Josiah confirmed, "so I'm sure you've got nothing to worry about."

7-7-7-7-7-7-7

The chair creaked as Nathan leaned back, stretching out his tense muscles. He'd been bent over the bed too long and his body was quick to remind him of the fact. Looking down at the reason, he felt guilty about his complaints.

Ezra was already showing signs of a fever setting in. Not surprising given the infection in the wounds on his back and arms. His wrists were raw from the rope. The horsewhip had sliced through his clothing, forcing dirt and fabric into the injuries. The skin had been broken in other places as well, by the crop and the edge of a strap. Stymiest has taken advantage of every tool at his disposal to inflict as much rage induced damage as he could. It had been a long time since Nathan had seen anyone flogged this badly, and those were memories he had hoped never to revisit. He wrung out the last of his damp cloths, resting this one on Ezra's deeply bruised jaw. Most of his face and neck were covered in an effort to bring the swelling under control. He couldn't guess how many times the strap had landed on Ezra's face, neck and shoulders.

Vin sat down on the other chair after handing a foul-smelling bowl to the healer. "This is the last of the herb mix. I can go collect more in the morning if need them."

"Probably will. And some more cloths to soak as well. Don't think this is going to settle down any too fast." He stretched again slowly as he stood, walking over to wash his hands. "He's hurting bad Vin, and I don't know what else I can do for him."

"Be here. That's all any of us can do right now. Let him know he ain't – isn't – alone."

Nathan smiled. "All his corrections getting through to you?"

He shrugged. "It's annoying, but it seems to be working."

"Only does it to help."

"I know. He does that a lot, doesn't he? Get under people's skins while trying to help?"

"Just his way."

Pulling his seat closer to the bed, Vin spoke quietly. "You best wake up and get back to teaching us all Pard." He sighed quietly when there was no reaction. "Go downstairs Nathan. You need the fresh air, and the others are likely chewin' though furniture waiting to hear on him. I'll stay put a while."

M7-M7-M7-M7-M7-M7-M7

tbc


	5. Chapter 5

The floorboards were in danger of wearing through from the hard pacing they were being subjected to. Only Josiah had remained seated since arriving, save for a couple of trips to the bar for refills. The last one still sat untouched, as he came to the conclusion praying while drinking might not be the most promising way to get a positive outcome.

Chris looked up anxiously when the door opened, then scowled at JD. "Thought I told you to keep guard."

"You did, but Jake Spencer came to the jail and said he'd sit. Knew I'd want to be over here." His tone defied anyone to challenge the decision, and Chris couldn't deny the truth in it. "Take it there's no news?"

Josiah waved the young man over to join him. "All we know is he's in a lot of pain. Passed out again when I set him down on the bed. Nathan's said he didn't think the injuries aren't all that critical. Ugly and painful, but not critical. It's the fever we need to worry about."

JD looked as worried as the rest. "Wonder if anybody will even come up with something to help fight that off? We sure could use it."

Stopping his pacing long enough to pick up a beer, Buck brought it over the table for JD. "Nate and Vin are fixing up some of them poultices to try to help. Guess we just have to wait."

"That could be a while. Buck, get me one of those, would you?" Nathan sat heavily at the table, and JD slid his beer over. "Thanks." He swallowed half of it before looking up at the four faces staring at him.

"Back and arms got split open by the whip. That's where we're most likely to get fever from. Arm is swollen and bruised from a hit from that walking stick you destroyed." Josiah had taken some comfort in smashing the cane into kindling when he saw it propped against the wall and deduced its purpose. "Bruise on his head is likely from that too."

He stopped long enough to take a few smaller sips. "His face and neck are messed up bad. The strap cut him up and busted his jaw and cheek. Nose as well, which explains the breathing troubles. Being gagged must have made it damned near impossible for him." The sound of breaking glass silenced Nathan. He looked up, surprised to see Buck was still holding the beer glass. Attention turned to Chris, who didn't seem the least bit embarrassed by his actions. He said nothing, just going to the bar to get a replacement.

"If we can keep the fever from setting in deep, there's no reason he won't get over this."

"Don't see how that's possible Nathan. How can you get past being beaten like that?" JD couldn't get past the horror of the experience. He doubted he would get just over seeing it and couldn't imagine that it wouldn't continue to haunt Ezra.

"If you're asking me about the medical, he'll heal up. If you're asking how a man gets past that kind of cruelty – he does it with the help and support of his friends. I can tell you that first hand, though not as bad as Ezra's been hurt. Seen it that bad but didn't feel it myself."

He looked down at the table and finished off his drink. None of the others spoke, no knowing what to say to that kind of comment. He pushed away from the table. "You know where to find me if you need anything." He turned back just before getting to the door. "There isn't a fist mark on him. Never touched him with anything other than those damned weapons."

"Once the judge has seen them for evidence, we'll destroy them. Don't want Ezra to ever have to see them again." Vin was figuring on a nice fire to do the job.

There was no emotion in Chris's response, his voice ice cold. "Stymiest is gonna go away for a long time on this Nathan. He'll never get near anyone that way again. One way or the other, I'll guarantee that."

7-7-7-7-7-7-7

Try though he might, there was simply no way to get comfortable in this bed. In the week since he had finally broken through his fevered dreams, Ezra had tried every possible combination of pillows, blankets and positions. Nothing worked. Pressure on his back or right side was unbearable, even though he had been assured the injuries were healing well. Lying on his stomach hurt his chest neck and face, and spending too much time on his left side, the option with the least damage, had resulted in a new round of aches and pains.

It wasn't just the softer consistency of his own bed that had him practically begging to be relocated. He wanted to be in his own environment. In the comfort of a familiar space that allowed him to at least pretend he felt safe again. And it would mean no one was sitting at his side when he awoke from the repeated nightmares that were plaguing him.

"You'd feel better if you stopped fidgeting so much Ez."

"It is in an effort to feel better that I am," he shuddered noticeably, "'fidgeting', Mr. Wilmington."

"I could get Nathan to brew you up another one of his teas." The thought brought another shudder to Ezra, which in turn brought a small grin to Buck's face. "Or maybe I could find something else you could drink to help ease some of them aches."

Ezra bit back the desire to correct the grammar, not ready to risk a withdrawal of the offer. "That could prove to be a satisfactory compromise."

"No booze Ezra. Nathan catches you he'll add time onto your sentence up here." Chris tried with only marginal success to keep the smile from his face. It was nice to hear the man scheming again.

Sentence was an accurate term, since he felt as though he was being punished. "It hardly seems fair that I am the one facing an extended incarceration, under the circumstances."

That wiped any thought of a smile away. "No, you're right. It was a poor choice of words Ezra."

Ezra gave a small shrug and was relieved to find it wasn't as uncomfortable as he'd feared it could be. He knew a large factor in his ongoing discomfort was his reliance on others, and he hated the fact he was about to ask for yet another favour for what he should be able to do on his own. "Perhaps," he began reluctantly, "I could persuade you gentlemen to assist me in finding a more comfortable posture."

Chris looked to Buck. "What did Nathan say about him sitting up?"

That was the last straw. "In the name of God, I am a grown man. I do not have to have someone's permission for every little moment of my life. Is it not bad enough that I am stuck in this public space with no privacy for even the most basic of human functions, I am now to be deprived of the simple option of being seated or reclining? If you won't be of assistance, at the very least leave me to suffer in solitude, without your constant scrutiny."

It wasn't often Chris was left speechless, but Ezra had accomplished the feat. He stared at the now even more uncomfortable man, who was desperately trying to find a way to bury himself under the blankets in response to his outburst.

"Buck, get Josiah up here. And Vin. It's gonna take a few of us to carry Ezra back to his room."

It was Ezra's turn to be speechless, although it lasted only a few seconds. "I am capable of walking."

"No, you aren't." Damn. Nathan's arrival was going to put an end to his reprieve before it could even start. "You let them get you down the stairs here, and I'll go dig out that invalid chair. Think that might be a bit more dignified for you than being carried outta here by this bunch."

He wasn't left speechless this time, but was certain that if he opened his mouth a sob of relief would be the first sound they heard. He settled for nodding while trying to regain his composure.

"You aren't gonna get better if you keep fighting with me. With us. But Ezra, this doesn't mean we are leaving you alone. I still have to change those dressings. Took you long enough to fight of the fever I'm not gonna let it get hold again."

Chris didn't relish reminding him of other restrictions that were still in place. "And one of us is going to have to help you with meals and – well other things."

"I understand. And despite my earlier outburst, I am grateful for the patience and assistance you have been so generous with since this incident occurred." He paused for a moment. "I hesitate to ask, but I do have another request."

"No booze Ezra. That's firm."

"I would have been stunned with any other response Mr. Jackson, but that is not the request. If I have accurately gauged the day, it should be close to the dinner hour."

Buck laughed. "You want to eat first?"

"No, but I would like to do this relocation at a time when there are few on the street who would be in the position to gawk at the process."

"More likely to find a bunch wanting to give us a hand with helping you Ezra."

"I would prefer not to make a spectacle of myself."

The defeated tone was not what any of them had expected to hear. Buck was about to call him on it when he saw Chris's small headshake. "OK Ezra, we can do this after supper, when folks are settled for the night. That'll give Nathan a chance to make sure everything is in order, and me and Buck will find that chair and fix your place up. Sound OK?"

Ezra nodded his gratitude as he mentally prepared for more of Nathan's healing potions.

7-7-7-7-7-7-7

"If you do that, he's gonna be madder than a hornet when he gets outside Chris." The men were outside of the livery having found the chair and delivered it for Ezra. None of them were being very supportive of Chris's solution to Ezra's mood.

"Well, if he's mad –"

Vin agreed with Buck. "No if about it Chris. He's either gonna blow up on us, or flat out die of embarrassment."

"He thinks the town is laughing at him because of this. He needs to know that ain't the case."

"Isn't." JD said quietly, taking a step back when Chris glared at him.

"Don't start kid. OK, so if having folks here to greet him won't help, what will?"

That silenced the discussion quickly. "Exactly. So, unless one of you can come up with a better idea…"

"I may have one." Mary had seen the gathering, and suspected who, if not what, was the subject of debate. She had tried to visit with Ezra a few times during his convalescence but had been turned away each time. Knowing him as she did, it wasn't hard to figure out what was on his mind.

"I'm going to ask him to be our teacher." They stared at her in obvious disbelief before all speaking at once."

"Are you out of your mind?" "He'll never agree." "Not a chance." "Won't happen." "Brilliant."

The last came from Josiah, and again stopped the others.

"Brilliant? You can't think this is a good idea?" Chris was the first to speak.

"What could be a better show of support for him?"

Buck was less certain. "That's kind of the problem. What if there is no support? You heard how quick folks were to think the worst of him the night this all happened."

"Lot of folks have felt like that all along." JD added, saddened by the truth of the fact.

"Not as many as you think." Mary needed to find a way to convince these six if she hoped to have any chance of convincing Ezra himself. "I've talked to most of them since, and they feel pretty shamed by what they said that night. They're darned glad Mr. Standish didn't hear them."

"You really think they learned better?"

"Yes JD, I do. They know what happened, and that he was trying to protect their children. That holds a great deal of sway in their thoughts."

Vin remained unconvinced, but for totally different reasons. "I asked him about this before. He said teaching wasn't for him. Claimed it would take away his free time."

"That figures." Nathan mumbled, but not quietly enough.

"No, it doesn't figure. Not when you look at what he did, and how." Chris was still angry at that part of all of this. He could not begin to understand why Ezra had gone after Stymiest on is own and aimed to find out the reason. "Vin, did you believe him? About his reasons?"

There was a brief moment for consideration. "I think he was avoiding the answer. Yeah, I get the feeling there was more, but can't reckon on what it might be."

None of them could. "Easiest way would be to ask him – wouldn't it?"

"For anyone else I'd agree with you JD, but our gambler is an expert at avoiding subjects when he finds them uncomfortable or revealing. If I may suggest an alternate plan?"

"I'm all ears Josiah."

"Let us do as Ezra has asked for tonight. Get him back in his familiar environment. Give him time to feel more secure and settled. Then we can bring up the idea of finding a new teacher and see how he reacts. Take things from there."

M7-M7-M7-M7-M7-M7-M7

tbc


	6. Chapter 6

With JD back guarding the prisoner, and Nathan getting some well-earned rest, it fell to the rest of the men to keep an eye on Ezra for his first evening back in his own bed. The plan to let him rest and keep things calm had fallen apart quickly. A passing reference from Buck about which of them was most likely to haul off and slug Stymiest rapidly escalated into a four against one debate on whether the episode required retaliation.

"You do get that he was planning on burying you out there somewhere you'd never be found, right? Make us think you'd just run off on us?"

Ezra saw no point in hiding his reaction to Vin's choice of phrase.

'it was a viable plan, as it certainly would not have been the first time."

"And you really think we would have believed that?" Chris was trying to recall if there was ever a time the gambler hadn't been obstinate. "You really don't see it, do you Ezra? This isn't some kind of act."

"I have no idea to what you are referring Mr. Larabee."

"Why do you think we are keen to keep you around here - aside from the obvious?"

"The obvious, as you put it, is the only reason I could name. On those occasions when you need someone who is duplicitous or conniving, you require my services. There are few, at least in this part of the country, who can master me at those skills."

Were it not for the fact it was so damn tragic, Vin could almost laugh at the absurdity of the notion. "You seriously think that's it? What you call your dishonest nature is the only reason?"

"No. I will concede my shooting skills have proven beneficial to you from time to time, but they are not impressive enough to override other concerns."

"Aint' gonna deny you have a gift for manipulation of a situation that is truly a sight to behold Ezra. And I can't say the number of times I've been damned glad to know you're standing on my side when there's been shooting going on. But you missed on both counts."

Ezra was in no mood for the discussion. Even though the was definitely grateful to be back in his own bed, the process had taken far more out of him than he was willing to admit. Despite the timing, he was well aware several of townsfolk had witnessed the transfer and he could well imagine the snickering and associated commentary. How much of a protector could he be for the town is he could be so soundly bested by a school teacher? He was at a loss to determine how he was going to face these people again.

The silence in the room clued him in that his mind had wandered. They were waiting for him to say something, and since he had no idea what they wanted to hear, he chose to divert attention. He yawned.

"Nice try Pard, but Chris isn't going to let this go."

"Very well. But you can answer to Mr. Jackson when he complains that my healing process has slowed because I am not resting sufficiently."

"Fine. I'll get down to it then. I can't say that I've ever met anyone as good at sizing up folks as you are Ezra. You see things we don't. Guess it's what you call 'tells'."

"A necessary skill at the gaming tables, and hardly a ringing character endorsement."

Josiah shifted forward in his chair. "That isn't the only time you use that gift. Every stranger who steps of the stage, every cowboy who walks into the saloon, every newcomer who settles in town is sized up by you before they've had time to shake the dust off."

"And you get it right damn near every time." Buck added. "I don't even do that well with the ladies - not that I'll ever admit I said that outside this room."

"Your point, Mr. Larabee?"

"My point, Ezra, is that we're the ones responsible for this. You said from the minute that Stymiest fella got here that something wasn't right. Despite what we thought we knew, you stuck to your gut. And we ignored you. If we hadn't, the bastard wouldn't have been able to get the upper hand on you like that."

"My carelessness and inattentiveness, along with a sizeable amount of hubris, are what is responsible for this, and no other excuse need be offered."

It was always the safest way to go. Take the blame on yourself first, before anyone else can assign it. With luck, you can later offer mitigating factors, and lessen the severity of any punitive measures. And even if that isn't the case, you can usually skim over a few details and in so doing, leave off some of more heinous actions. It also had the added bonus of confusing your accuser, who as a rule expected denial, not acquiescence. It didn't hurt that in this case, it was all true.

It seemed the others disagreed with the last thought. "Your only mistake in this was in not coming to one of us. Going in there on your own, without anyone knowing - that was stupid Ezra. No question."

Buck was every bit as resolute in his comments. "We may not have agreed with your hunch, but if you'd told us what you knew about Billy, you can be damn sure would have checked things out. You should have trusted us."

It was a fleeting reaction that crossed Ezra's face, but Vin caught it, and understood. He had the same instantaneous response when he heard the last sentence. "No Buck. We should have trusted him. From the start. Fact we didn't is why he did what he did - right Ezra?"

"It did seem unlikely you would alter your opinion, as you had made it clear you did not agree with my assessment of the situation."

"Ain't like you to give up on something you believe in so easy Ezra."

"Isn't Mr. Tanner. Isn't. However, I have come to the conclusion that my arguing these issues serves no purpose other than to annoy you, and contrary to Mr. Larabee's opinion, that is not my sole form of entertainment."

Wishing he could deny the accusation, Chris put in only a mild defence. "May not be your only form entertainment, but it sure is one of them. Point is, when it's important, you can tell us that. I trust you to not abuse that."

That he was trusted with anything remained a novelty, and a mystery, to the gambler. It was not a word used with any seriousness in his vocabulary prior to his time in Four Corners. "I will try to keep that in mind in the future." He settled deeper into his pillows, not needing to fake the yawn this time. Taking the hint, they stood to leave, with Vin lingering for a bit.

"Ezra, you do understand there is another reason we like that you stick around besides what Chris just said."

"I have exhausted all of the possibilities I can devise."

"You're our friend, and we like having you around."

The simplicity of the statement succeeded in doing something few could do to Ezra Standish. It rendered him speechless. Smiling, Vin closed the door and left the gambler to think on the revelation.

7-7-7-7-7-7-7

Ezra moved slowly to answer the soft tap at his door. He was feeling better after a few days of rest but wasn't quite ready for anything too physical. The tap came again just as he reached for the knob.

"A bit of patience would not be unwarranted under the present circums - Oh, excuse me Mrs. Travis. I had expected this to be one of my colleagues making yet another monitoring call.

"They have only the best intentions."

"Perhaps, but their concern for health is slowly killing me. How may I be of assistance to you?"

"If you are feeling up to it, I would appreciate a few moments of your time."

The look of surprise on his face came from any number of sources, not the least of which was propriety. "I would not dream of scandalizing your standing in out community by asking you into my lodgings. If you can give me a few moments to prepare myself, I can meet you downstairs… no that is likely no better."

Mary smiled warmly, touched by his concern over her reputation. "I have no worries about what people might think, but if you would be more comfortable, we could ask Josiah to join us. He is downstairs. Or, I can wait for you on the verandah, if that isn't too taxing for you."

"Yes, I believe the latter option would be best. I shall join you there in - 15 minutes?"

Watching her nod and leave, he closed the door and his mind immediately went to analyzing the purpose of the visit. If it was simply to express a misguided gratitude for his actions to protect Billy, she could have had her say there at the door. He shuddered over the possibility that she might be seeking an interview on the matter. It was bad enough that his humiliating beating was common knowledge; seeing the tale in print was incomprehensible. He would have to kill that idea before it went any farther. It finally dawned on him that the best way, the only way, to get his answers was to make himself presentable enough to go down and meet with the woman.

Putting action to thought was far more difficult that he had anticipated. A look in the mirror confirmed what he suspected. His face was still to bruised and battered for him to think about going anywhere near the straight razor. Just a proper washing was difficult enough. The bandages on his arms meant wearing his derringer was out of the question, despite the reality he felt severely underdressed without it. Not that he likely be able to fire it, as he hands remained stiff and less responsive than he liked. The simple act of putting on his shirt was enough to leave him exhausted. He glared at the vest as if it had some kind of personal vendetta against him and reached past it for his jacket. There was a moment of hesitation before he moved past his first choice, retrieving a less colourful selection. It served the dual purpose of being a bit larger, and therefore easier to get into, and being less flamboyant. Drawing added attention was not in his game plan today.

The process had taken longer than he expected, but he dared not hope that meant Mary had abandoned her plan. The woman had a stubborn streak in her that rivalled that of Chris. Ezra had his suspicions that fact did not bode well for their future. He took his time descending the stairs as each step sent small shocks of pain through him. Nathan was going to be furious when he discovered the inevitable set-back in the recovery process, and it would be ungentlemanly to place the blame on a lady. A lady who was, as he expected, waiting patiently for him. But not alone. Josiah, Buck and Chris had joined her, making this into more than he had anticipated. If only he had the energy to turn and retreat.

One look had Mary regretting she had rushed this meeting. Ezra's gaunt face and the fine sheen of perspiration were obvious indicators that he wasn't up to the public appearance. Less obvious were the small tremors that passed through him, although as he got closer they became more apparent. Most telling though was the wary look in his eyes. Ezra Standish, when at his best, never would show that much of what he was feeling.

"You best sit before you end up doing yourself some harm." Josiah reached out for him, and at the last moment pulled back enough to make it appear less obvious how badly the assistance was needed. High on the list of things Ezra hated even more that cheaters and early mornings, was creating the appearance he needed anyone's help. There was a small groan, followed by a sigh of relief when Ezra made it to the chair.

"Oh Mr. Standish, I do apologize. I should never have -"

"Please madam. No need to berate yourself. I have been looking forward to the opportunity to escape the increasingly claustrophobic nature of my room. You merely provided the impetus for me to do so."

She was about to comment when she saw Chris shake his head slightly. Calling Ezra on this would only make him more self-conscious about the whole ordeal which was something he didn't need any help with. The men had yet to figure out why Ezra was so unwilling to talk about what happened to him that evening. He hadn't even made a formal statement yet, which he would have to do before Judge Travis arrived in a few days.

"Well, if you are certain it isn't asking too much, I would like a few moments of your time. I, on behalf of the town, would like to make a request of you."

It was, Chris decided, kind of entertaining to watch Ezra try to second guess someone when he had absolutely no clue what they were talking about. You could almost see the thought process as he went from "what have I done" to "what do they want" in mere seconds. Most impressive in the performance was the sincere smile and apparent lack of concern regarding what would come next. To a stranger, he was as relaxed as it was possible to be. To anyone who knew him, Ezra was on edge.

"I cannot imagine what the town might be asking of me and will admit to a minor apprehension when I consider the possibilities."

"Well, I don't think there is any cause for that. We, that is to say, the parents in community, have not abandoned our hope of getting a proper education for our children."

"A noble pursuit."

"Yes, well, I can't say that I would blame you if you were less than thrilled by the prospect."

Ezra tried to smile at her concern but had the impression the look was more grimace than grin. He wanted nothing to do with the selection, or for that matter any contact with whoever came to take Stymiest's place. He didn't have the inner strength to hide his bitterness on the subject. "My only request in your next selection would be that you find someone feeble enough that I would stand at least a chance of surviving any encounters. I don't imagine I could handle another such humiliation."

Mary's planned words caught in her throat as she gave a small gasp of surprise. Before she could speak, Buck's anger won the moment.

"Damn it Ezra! Is that what's been eating at you? How the hell do you figure humiliation comes into this?"

He didn't answer. Didn't even raise his head to meet the stare he knew was directed at him. Chris was about to add his opinion to the mix when he got the same warning look from Mary that he had given her just a moment earlier.

"I may not have your gift with words Mr. Standish, but I do know the meaning of most that I hear. Apparently, you have a very different definition of humiliation than I have ever encountered. I cannot imagine how you could even begin to think anyone in this town thinks less of you because of what happened."

"I was bested by a school teacher. Hardly an experience a town protector should have."

"He bested you because you were focused on protecting the children. There is no more important job than that, and I can say with certainty that right now there is no one else that this town would rather have safeguarding its children. That's why we were hoping you would take on the job of teacher."

In all the time he'd been in Four Corners, through all the encounters, ambushes, revelations and adventures, Ezra had never once been so completely flabbergasted by a single sentence. His mind almost spun out of control at the concept, and the shear lunacy of it. "It never ceases to surprise me the lengths people will go to when they feel the need, however inappropriate it may be, to demonstrate some form of gratitude. To imply that such a role should be tasked to someone of my character, my background, my moral fibre. Absurd does not begin to define it. Given the source, I will accept that it was not intended as a slight or a mischief, as you are too fine a person to be part of such cruelty. But clearly it was an idea borne of desperation and without the benefit of objective review."

"You do know most people would say no thanks and leave it at that." Buck wasn't impressed by the outburst.

Ignoring Buck, Mary focused her full attention on Ezra. This was not going to be as easy as she had hoped, but not for the reasons she expected. "Mr. Standish, you know me to be a woman of my word, and I give you that now. This was discussed by the parents in the community. We also discussed the matter with Oren, and with your six very good friends. I won't lie to you and say there were no objections, but there was not one that wasn't soundly dismissed by the vast majority of those involved. We know you don't have the accreditation needed to be able to become a full-time teacher. Nor do you have the time, unless you'd consider giving up your time at the tables." She smiled at his exaggerated look of dismay, pleased to see he was listening. "So yes, we intend to continue our search for a proper teacher. But until that time, we are asking you to consider giving the children a few hours a day of learning. Share your education and experience -"

"Might want to go easy on the experiences." Chris grinned as he spoke. It disappeared when Mary glared.

"Share **everything** with the children. They have been frightened and deeply upset by Mr. Stymiest, and by what happened to you. They need a friendly face, someone they like and trust, to show them the school is a good place to be. I cannot imagine anyone better suited to that task - can you?"

They went quiet, watching Ezra. If every word of what Mary said hadn't been totally true, Chris would have accused her of playing dirty. Appealing to the him through the genuine needs of the children was hitting him where he lived. For whatever reason, and he had his theories, Ezra connected with them far more than he did with most adults. He became someone else when they were around, and Chris believed that went a long way toward making him a better man.

Whether it was the stress of recent events, the fatigue of the day or the simple honesty of the request, Ezra was unable to camouflage his emotions. Every thought, every consideration played out on his face as he tried to absorb and process what had been said.

He could have spent the next hour telling them all the reasons this would never work. Detailing the flaws and follies of the concept. That would mean sharing more of his life, more of his truth, with them, a prospect which did not appeal. He also had, running through his mind, an equally long list of reasons it was not to his advantage to take on such a task. Early hours, preparing lessons, dealing with parents and the inevitable jibes that would be directed had him by Buck, (and the others) over his new role. It was harder, much harder, to come up with reasons why he should even consider making such an alteration to his daily existence. He could think of only one: he wanted to.

Smothering all of the negatives he smiled slyly. "Mother will be so disappointed. It isn't damaging enough that I have turned to the wrong side of the law, by her interpretation, but to sink so low as to accept a public service position? The news may just kill her."

M7-M7-M7-M7-M7-M7-M7

tbc


	7. Epilogue

"Well, he certainly won't be able to criticize the kids for being late. They're likely going to beat him to class most mornings."

"When the motivation is sufficient, I can be prompt." Ezra strode to join them.

Chris smothered the urge to laugh. "So my threats aren't sufficient motivation? Guess I'll have to work on that."

Ezra made a show of pretending to ignore the comment, glancing at his pocket watch as he did. "I have more than 10 minutes to spare Mr. Jackson."

"That doesn't give you much time to get things ready in there. You need any help?" JD hadn't been the only one to notice Ezra still seemed a bit slower than getting around than usual as he recovered..

"The offer is appreciated, but unnecessary. The lesson plan is prepared, and the classroom was made ready last night." He couldn't miss the blend of surprise and concern. "Gentlemen, I could hardly be expected to teach in the room if I could not bring myself to re-enter it. Expelling the ghosts of the event was the first task needed, and it has been done."

"Having the Judge send Stymiest to be locked up for 10 years couldn't have hurt with that I'd think."

He gave away nothing at the mention of the name, despite the cold shiver that went through him. "Knowing he has been removed from the equation does assist. Now, if you will excuse me, I believe I have somewhere to be."

Ezra made his way to the building, where some of the children had already begun to gather. Almost every parent in town had indeed accepted having him in the classroom, a fact that still astounded him. Several were there with their children, making sure the first day back at class went ahead without any issues.

"Nice to see you Mr. Standish." "Sure do appreciate you taking this on Mr. Standish." "Good to see you looking better Standish." He was genuinely shocked by the support that he saw. None of that came close to matching the feeling he got seeing the trust and faith on the faces of the youngsters there.

"Well," he cleared his throat and tried again. "Well, we mustn't dawdle children. I have been told that punctuality - the act of being on time - is an important trait to develop, and I think this is a good place to start. You all remember where you should be sitting, so please, hurry along." Nodding to the parents, he turned to enter and stopped short. Andrew Bailey approached the classroom tentatively, holding tightly to the hand of his father who was urging him along.

The lad looked up at Ezra with no small amount of fear on his face. "You really going to be the one teaching us, Mr. Standish?"

"That depends. Do you find that to be something you would like to have happen?" The boy nodded solemnly. "Then I would be pleased to be the one teaching you." Andrew looked up at his father grinning. "You were right pa." He let go of his father's hand and ran into the room. Ezra looked at the farmer.

"I shall take good care of him."

"Wouldn't have brought him here if I didn't already know that. Got chores to see to." He left with no further word.

The team watched the byplay from a short distance off, pleased at the way things fell together. Chris nodded slowly before speaking. "Well, he ain't the only one. You all have chores to get to as well."

"Isn't." Nathan, Josiah and JD corrected at the same time. Ezra turned back from his place in the doorway.

"Would you care to join us in class Mr. Larabee? One is never too old to learn." The gold tooth practically glinted in the sunlight.

 _Oh Lord_ , Chris wondered, _what have we created_?

 **M7-M7-M7-M7-M7-M7-M7**

 **THE END**


End file.
